


Arrangements

by Tiraen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, F/M, Femdom, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiraen/pseuds/Tiraen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa Malfoy and Lord Voldemort have an arrangement.</p>
<p>Warnings in the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrangements

“Lucius.”

The blond man paused, turning around to face the dark lord, and waited until the rest of the Death Eaters had filed out. He bowed to Voldemort, removing his mask.

“My lord?”

“How is your wife, Lucius?”

He hesitated for a moment, obviously both not wanting to lie, and not wanting to betray Narcissa’s confidence. Voldemort restrained a smirk. It was always amusing watching Lucius battle his inner demons. The man was protective of his wife and son, and it almost interfered in his service. Voldemort would have to deal with that sooner or later, but not now. No, at the moment he had other concerns.

“My wife is well, my lord. She… has asked after you.” Lucius said this last phrase carefully, hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how the Dark Lord would take it.

But Voldemort merely allowed a small smile to appear on his face.

“Has she? How considerate of her. Do convey my regards.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He could see the question in Lucius’s eyes, wondering if that was the only reason he had been held back.

“And Lucius? Inform dear Narcissa that I wish to see her. Tonight, at her earliest convenience.”

“Yes, my lord. If I may ask…”

“You may, Lucius, but only because Narcissa is your wife, and you are asking out of concern for her. You may remember, in the first war, Narcissa often came to my aid before she was with child.”

“I do, my lord.”

“Her pregnancy stopped our arrangement, of course, but now that your child is grown, and a Death Eater in his own right, I feel that Narcissa and I can return to that arrangement.”

Lucius looked vaguely uncomfortable at that. Voldemort had been in Lucius’s mind, as well as Narcissa’s, and knew that the love between them was real. Their marriage had not been arranged, but one out of love. Still, he knew that they each had certain desires that could not be fulfilled by the other, and arrangements were made to sate those desires. So it must be the fact that it was Voldemort who was involved which gave Lucius pause.

“I… I see, my lord. I shall convey your message.”

“And Lucius?”

He paused, looking at his lord curiously.

“I assume you know of Narcissa’s particular proclivities.”

A faint blush appeared on Lucius’s face, and he nodded. Voldemort had no doubt that he was trying not to think of the Dark Lord in a sexual way.

“Then I can be assured that you will keep our arrangement to yourself?”

“Of course, my lord! I would never-“

“Yes, yes. You may go, and be sure to deliver my message.”

Lucius gave a final bow, before sliding his mask over his face and turning on his heel.

\---

Lucius appeared in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, by all appearance having simply come back from another one of his political meetings. The only clue as to his unusual state of mind was his particularly pale face.

“Lucius, darling, how was your meeting?”

His wife swept into the room, as elegant as always, and stood on tip-toe to kiss her husband lightly. Lucius allowed the kiss, but couldn’t help the frown that formed on his face.

“What is is, Lucius?” Narcissa asked, concerned.

“Perhaps we should move to my study. I need to speak with you.”

Her curiosity peaked, she followed Lucius through their manor and into the study, where he locked the door behind them with a wave of his wand.

“Perhaps, Narcissa, you could tell me more of this “arrangement” you had with the Dark Lord in the first war? One that you told me meant nothing?”

Narcissa’s only visible reaction was to raise her left eyebrow.

“And why are you asking me this now, my dearest?”

Propping his cane against his desk, Lucius made his way over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey, not offering any to Narcissa. His wife preferred not to partake in alcohol.

Taking a long sip of the burning drink, Lucius turned back to his wife.

“The dark lord requests your presence, tonight at your earliest convenience. He made a point to inform me that I was to keep information about your particular proclivities to myself.”

“I see. Lucius-“

But he shook his head. “No. Our lord is our lord. We both agreed. And you did nothing - are doing nothing - that we did not arrange. I know that, in certain things, I cannot satisfy you, as you cannot satisfy me. However, I do wish you would have said-“

“Said what, Lucius? What could I have said that would not betray our Lord’s trust?”

Taking another sip of the liquor, Lucius shook his head.

“You’re right, of course. I’m simply… simply surprised.”

“I understand. I should go, Lucius. I shall see you tomorrow.”

She moved forward, and husband and wife embraced each other, kissing lightly, all forgiven.

Narcissa swept out of the room, and Lucius collapsed onto his armchair, head in his hands.

\---

With a crack, Narcissa appeared in the entrance of Riddle manor. She easily fell into the old routine, remembering how it had been, once, and would be again.

She climbed the towering staircase, taking a breath with each step, and allowing herself to fall into a nearly forgotten persona. It was a dangerous game they played, and the thrill of it filled her. Narcissa had been a mere housewife for far too long. It was time for her to feel the power that she craved.

Arriving at the familiar door to the bedroom, she hesitated. Not out of fear, not out of uncertainty, but only to ensure that she was ready.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back, and turned the doorknob.

And there he was, his hands clasped behind his back, facing the window. Her lord turned as she entered, and the look of lust in his eyes was unparalleled. It occurred to her that it had been years for him, years without his desires being satisfied.

It thrilled her to know that she was the only one he trusted. Not even her sister, Bellatrix, who professed to be his most loyal, knew of this.

Neither of the spoke for a moment. They simply looked at each other, assessing the other.

Finally, Narcissa broke the silence.

“Kneel.”

The dark lord hesitated, and for a moment Narcissa feared that she had been mistaken. But slowly, he sunk to his knees, bowing his head, and she knew she had been right. Many things had changed since she had lasted seen her lord, but this had remained the same.

Drawing her wand, Narcissa approached him, her breath quickening despite herself.

She had many lovers throughout the years, some willing, some not, but nothing was like this. Nothing could give her the same feeling.

Reaching out, almost hesitant, she rested her hand on his bare head. The contact grounded her, brought her back to reality and down from the high that had been threatening to consume her.

She flicked her want, and he was divested of his black robes.

Voldemort did not have the same body that he once had. Some would find his new appearance grotesque, she knew, but it wasn’t to her. To her, he was just as gorgeous as he had once been.

“Welcome me properly, slave.”

The response was whispered, and she could barely hear it.

“Yes, mistress.”

He leaned down, hands on the floor, and kissed the toe of her black leather boot, and then the other. Narcissa watched, a gleam in her eyes.

“Good. Undress me.”

He stood to obey immediately, unlacing the black corset that encircled her waist first, and setting it on a nearby chair. Next he helped her step out of her dress, leaving her only in a garter belt and silk stockings. He glanced up at her, silently asking whether he should continue, and she nodded.

The stockings were unclipped and rolled down her longs legs, and the garter belt followed.

Narcissa reached up and undid her elegant hairdo, her long blonde and black hair flowing down her back. Voldemort dared to look up at her, his gaze lingering first on her face, and then wandering down. She allowed it, lenient because it had been so many years.

“On the bed. Hand and knees.”

Her order was murmured softly, but Voldemort was as quick to obey as if she had shouted it.

She watched him for a moment. Watched him breathe, watched him wait for her.

The dark lord. At her mercy.

Narcissa leaned down, opening a trunk at the foot of the bed. The preservation charms had done their work, and her tools and toys were as if she had placed them there the previous day.

Already knowing what she was going to do, Narcissa pulled out several items, leaving the trunk open in case she had to summon something later.

Crawling on to the bed, Narcissa knelt behind the dark lord. Reaching out, her hands rested on his lower back, and she caressed his smooth skin. His skin was cool, unnaturally so, and for a moment she wondered if it was a result of the resurrection ritual, before bringing her mind back to the present.

Pouring lube into her hand, she warmed it, her hands smooth.

“Are you ready?”

It was a way of asking permission, of ensuring that he was still her slave and not her lord, without ruining the game.

“Yes, mistress.”

Voldemort’s voice was strained, and she could see his arousal. A smile stretched over her lips.

A single slick finger ran down his spine, and as she pushed gently against his entrance, she could hear his breath quickening.

She entered him, first one finger, and then two, and then three. Moving in and out of him, she stretched him until she was satisfied.

Removing her fingers, she lubed a glass plug that she had retrieved, and slowly pushed it into him. He gasped at the cool material, arching his back, and moaned.

“Don’t move.”

She could see him trembling with arousal, and it brought on her own.

Quickly, Narcissa stood, and stepped into the leather harness, tightening it around her waist and thighs. The silicone dildo was next, and she slipped it on, before kneeling once again behind Voldemort.

She reached once again for the bottle of lube, pouring some into her hand and slicking up the dildo.

Slowly, she pulled out the glass plug, allowing it to fall on the bed as she positioned the dildo, on hand at its base.

Biting her lip, she began pushing it into him, stretching him further. He moaned, louder.

“Please….”

But Narcissa was nothing if she wasn’t patient. Still moving slowly, she continued to push. She felt him tense, and knew that he was restraining the urge to thrust back.

“Good boy,” she murmured, because she had to reward him somehow.

“Thank you mistress,” was the hoarse reply.

Finally, she was seated fully in him. Resting for a moment, Narcissa reveled in her dominance.

“Please…”

The request came again, more desperate, and Narcissa couldn’t help but to give in.

Slowly, she rotated her hips, moving back and forth, hardly at all at first, but soon faster and faster, harder and harder. Her hands were on his hips, her nails digging into his skin.

“Move.”

The order was simple, but it was one that she knew he had been waiting for.

The two began to move in unison, thrusting against each other.

Narcissa, as was her custom, remained silent. Voldemort was moaning, crying out, allowing himself to lose control of his mind and his mouth.

“Please please please please.”

The mantra was like a prayer, and she was his goddess.

As she found his sweet spot, and began to pound him harder, Narcissa reached around and grasped his hard cock with one lubed hand.

Roughly, she began to stroke him, and only moment later his seed spilled on the bed. He collapsed, panting, and Narcissa waited a moment, sensing his mood.

“Come here, ‘Cissa.” He muttered.

She smiled a bit. The game was over.

Banishing her harness to the chair, she crawled forward, laying back on the pillows. Voldemort rested his head on her breasts, and she wrapped her arms around his head.

“I did miss you, ‘Cissa.”

“I missed you too, my lord,” she replied, stroking his neck gently.

“We shall have to continue our arrangement.”

“Indeed. I find it most pleasurable.

Voldemort paused, and he shifted so that he was looking up at her. There was a curious look in his eyes.

“Do you? Even though you never…?”

Narcissa laughed a bit. “Even though I never orgasm with you? Yes.” She bit her lip, wondering whether to explain.

“Go on.” He prompted.

“As you wish. You see, you are my lord, and my lover, and you hold a very special place in my heart. But Lucius… Lucius is my husband, and he is the only one who has the pleasure and the privilege of bringing me to completion.”

Voldemort looked at her, considering.

“You love him very much.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Yet you still came back to me.”

“Lucius would never… he would never respond to me the way you do.” She didn’t say submit, because he was her lord now and dark lords never submitted.

“You need it.”

He said it as thought it was a revelation.

“You need me.”

Narcissa allowed a smile to appear.

“Yes. I need you very much, my lord."

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, my second piece of smut!  
> Answering the following prompts:
> 
> At worshipdarklord on livejournal by nathalieweasley:  
> Bottom!Voldemort either sexually, politically-but-behind-the-scenes, or really wherever the prompt takes you.
> 
> At potterkinkmeme on livejournal, also by nathalieweasley:  
> Het or femmeslash: pegging  
> I'd like something fem!dom-ish (if you put in whips and leather I would love you forever). Gender play with a guy on bottom would be nice but either het or femmeslash is fine.


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